


Safe Word

by engineerleopoldfitz (aching_for_distance), Traviosita9124



Series: dom!Fitz-verse [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light BDSM, Sex Toys, dom!Fitz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 09:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3322070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aching_for_distance/pseuds/engineerleopoldfitz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traviosita9124/pseuds/Traviosita9124
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma Simmons has always been an overachiever. But what happens when she fails to follow Fitz' rules? </p>
<p>(AKA: By popular demand, we wrote a story about Fitz' toy collection as mentioned in For Science.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe Word

“Ah, ah, ah. Y’ know better than tha’, lass,” Fitz said softly, laying his hand over Jemma’s bare belly and drawing the toy away from her. She was sprawled over his bed, nude, holding onto his headboard as instructed, except it seemed that Jemma really, really liked the toys. Fitz hadn’t used them on her before, still learning her and the things she responded best to, but she’d asked about them earlier and Fitz couldn’t resist. 

Fitz had the fleeting thought that he’d never get accustomed to being with her. To seeing her in his bed, giving herself over to his control for a few hours at a time. It wasn’t as if he didn’t enjoy sex with Jemma regardless, but when she wanted to play… The possessive bit of Fitz that lingered quietly any other time sat up and took notice, pushing front and center, and he pushed it back down again. That side of him had no place in the room when he had Jemma with him like this. Playtime was about her, not him, no matter that he got pleasure out of it as well. 

He teased her, drawing it up the inside of Jemma’s thigh until she relaxed again under his touch instead of tense and trembling on the edge of an orgasm. “Remember - y’ canna come until I say so, no matter how good it feels. So jus’ relax. Enjoy, lass.” This particular toy had a remote control, which Fitz had intended to use, but that was before Jemma had reacted so strongly to it. 

Fitz’ words of warning drew a low whine that she just managed to trap in the back of her throat. She had known what Fitz was capable of, was well aware of just how well he could work her into a frenzy and how quickly, and she should have been expecting just as much today. For some reason, though, she had thought that with only the toys touching her, and not those ridiculously talented fingers of his, she wouldn’t be as greatly affected. She’d been wrong. 

Jemma’s fingers slipped against the polished wood of his headboard as she adjusted her grip, fighting to keep her hands above her instead of reaching for him. This was all part of the game. She got to whisper to Fitz what she’d like from him, what she fantasized about, and then he carried it out in lurid technicolor. Their relationship had only taken this turn a few months ago, but already, Jemma couldn’t imagine life with anyone else. Whether they played this game or not, Fitz had demonstrated time and again that he knew her, and would cater to her, beyond any doubt. 

Sucking in a deep breath, she allowed her eyes to slip shut so she could better focus on the feeling of his palm, warm and splayed low on her belly as he teased the toy along her inner thigh. She could feel the wetness it left there, sending a shiver down her spine. It was just a reminder for Jemma as to how tightly she was wound, and part of her worried that she wouldn’t be able to follow his order to hold off her orgasm. 

Eventually, feeling more settled, Jemma opened her eyes and nodded. She trusted Fitz beyond any doubt, but the fear that she’d displease him lingered in the back of her mind. Adjusting her grip on wood once more, she crooked her knee open in blatant invitation, signaling that she was ready to try again. 

Fitz grinned down at her, blue eyes bright and amused. Jemma might think she was ready, but that didn’t mean he was going to give in to her so quickly. Dropping the toy on the bed between her legs, Fitz nudged it until it was just nestled into her folds, not against anything particularly titillating, and refocused on her. From where he knelt between Jemma’s knees, he leaned up to stroke his hands up her body, fingers lingering over her breasts for a moment before coming up further to trace her collarbone before making the return trip back down her body. 

When he reached her hips and Jemma squirmed under his touch, he made another soft tsking sound. “You are determined t’ try an’ rush me tonight,” Fitz scolded her, his voice a little sharper than before. “Stop tha’, or I willna let y’ move, either.” He didn’t like being harsh with her. It wasn’t part of his usual persona, and she’d never made him have to use that tone before, but she wasn’t giving herself completely over to him this time. Jemma was in her head, thinking too much, and for some reason he couldn’t quite draw her out. 

He waited until he’d drawn his hands slowly down her legs and back up again before he took up the toy again. With vibrators on both ends, the toy was fully intended to cater to Jemma’s pleasure, but Fitz carefully held the one end away from her clit while fitting the other back into place against her g-spot and only gradually let the other side nestle into place. She shivered again immediately, and his eyes darted over to the drawer of toys, debating finding something else for her. 

Fitz’ rebuke, although not unduly sharp, caused Jemma to wince internally. Even before their relationship had changed, she had always felt safe with him, and here it was no different; she would stake her life on the fact that nothing they did in their bedroom would push beyond her boundaries. She did, however, want to please him more than anything, and what he was asking, well… Jemma wasn’t certain how she would hold off her orgasm. Or if she even could. 

For a woman like Jemma, who had spent nearly the entirety of her life making sure she excelled at everything she ever attempted, the thought that she might fail here was intimidating. Particularly since it also meant disappointing Fitz, whom she loved more than anything. 

She was determined to do everything she possibly could, though. It wasn’t uncommon for Fitz to command her to be absolutely still when he played with her; despite him not giving that command now (or at least yet), Jemma tried to go through the same mental process. She willed her muscles to relax, trying to melt into the soft duvet beneath her, despite her body’s desire to push against the toy and his hand. She was feeling pleased with herself, the toy gently buzzing away and pressed against her g-spot, and her confidence in her ability to follow his instructions growing, when he allowed it to find its way against her clit. 

The dual sensation sent fission of pleasure along her spine and out to her fingers and toes, causing her nipples to tighten in response. She clenched her fingers around the headboard once more and bit her lip sharply as she tried to remind herself to relax into it, or she’d never please him the way she hoped to. 

Fitz relaxed when she did, relieved when he saw Jemma’s expression clear, and settled back on the mattress, sitting cross legged before arranging Jemma’s legs over his, her knees bracketing his hips. Worrying about her had distracted him from the game, and now he could sit back and watch for a bit. He let his hands curve around Jemma’s calves, giving her a bit of gentle touch to finish settling her, and his smile returned when the last of the nerves seemed to melt from her body. 

“There y’ go, lass,” he said quietly, the warmth in Fitz’ tone letting Jemma know he was pleased with her, “Good girl. Close your eyes. Relax. I’ll let y’ have your fun eventually. Y’ know tha’.” Fitz kept his voice low, letting the soft patter of his words help her drift a bit and stop focusing on how aroused she was, careful not to ask anything, so Jemma didn’t feel like she had to formulate an answer for him. 

He also had the suspicion that Jemma wasn’t reacting the same because he wasn’t as hands on with her this time around. Fitz wasn’t even undressed, while Jemma was fully nude and entirely gorgeous laid out before him, all pale skin and curves punctuated by the warm browns and golds of her eyes and hair and freckles. He’d had a terrible day at work, too, and wasn’t entirely in the mood for sex - but he was in the mood to please her. After all, it wasn’t Jemma’s fault things had gone to shite and she’d clearly wanted his attention when he got home, if her cuddly behavior had been any indication. 

“Just so y’ know, I’ve a remote for tha’ toy,” he added, leaning down to leave a kiss on Jemma’s knee as he picked up the controller and reacquainted himself with the settings. “So I can do things like this…” Fitz thumbed the sliding control for the intensity of the vibrations, ratcheting from the lowest setting she’d gotten familiar with up to the highest one over the space of several seconds and then quickly lowering it back to the baseline again. “But y’ still canna come until I tell y’. You’re goin’ t’ have t’ work t’ make sure y’ don’ disobey.”

It was one of his own private rules for playing with Jemma that he was careful about surprising her. She got panic attacks sometimes, and Fitz never wanted to be the cause of one or give her reason to be anxious about playing with him. So while he might surprise her with what he did with the remote, Fitz made the point to tell her he had it, suggest that Jemma be ready for something to change, and what his expectation was. Jemma worked best with clear rules and expectations anyway, and it had worked well for the both of them so far. 

The fingers Fitz trailed along her calves were tender, worshipful, and banished the rest of Jemma’s nerves. Sighing softly, she felt the mix of eager anticipation and calm that usually came from these sessions with him come over her. It was a gentle reminder that this was for her as much, if not more, as it was for him, that he wouldn’t set her up to fail. 

That was the one aspect of this dynamic they shared that even Jemma hadn’t understood back when it all began. Like most, she had assumed that people who invested too heavily in power dynamics in the bedroom were getting off on that more than anything else, but Fitz had opened her eyes. She knew there were few who would believe her, but she felt just as loved here as at any other time. 

Feeling loved didn’t stop her from feeling wanton, however, and with her thighs spread open for him, that was exactly how she felt. Here, Fitz could see every inch of her, and Jemma would have sworn that she could feel his eyes on her, heating each bit of skin they touched. The thought alone had her choking back a moan, but when he ran through the varying speeds on the remote, Jemma had to fight to keep her hips from squirming along with the toy. He had warned her once already about that. She had yet to incur one of Fitz’ punishments; she had no intention of starting tonight. 

Now that Jemma was properly focused, relaxed and trusting, Fitz was more comfortable pushing her again. The vibrator had the simple speed control, but also pre-set options that varied speeds and pattern. He tested a few of those, until he found one that caused a series of pulses that started weak and grew in strength until they ended in a long buzz at nearly full strength, then stopped completely for a beat or two before starting over again. 

The way Jemma’s breath hitched, the soft curve of her belly drawing in tight and tense each time the pressure swelled against her, told him he’d found the right thing to tease her with. Setting the controller aside in favor of touching her, Fitz was careful to press firmly against her skin so he didn’t add to the teasing and inadvertently tickle her. He’d discovered once that when she was particularly aroused, tickling Jemma would result in that spot turning almost instantly into an extremely sensitive erogenous zone, and he didn’t want to test that reaction when he’d told her not to have an orgasm yet. 

Jemma’s eyes were still closed, as he’d directed, leaving him free to look his fill. There were times when Fitz still couldn’t believe, even after three months, that she wanted him. He’d been in love with her for so long and had resigned himself to never having her, so being with her, seeing her at her most intensely vulnerable, knowing she loved and trusted him that much, was humbling. Even with their playtime, Fitz had carefully led her through the process of creating a contract, the agreement of what was acceptable for her and what wasn’t. Some of his questions Jemma hadn’t had an answer for, too unfamiliar or inexperienced to know what she liked and didn’t, and they’d been carefully ticking those off in past weeks. 

The inclusion of his toy collection, it seemed, was going to be a definite addition to the yes column. 

Fitz hesitated when he felt Jemma’s legs tremble under his fingers, his eyes picking out the faint shaking through the rest of her body, and spoke to her again, his voice soft. “Hey. Look a’ me, beautiful,” he coaxed, urging her to open her eyes, and smiled down at her when she complied, “Good girl. You’re okay. You’re doin’ exactly wha’ I asked y’ t’ do.”

The vibration pattern worried Jemma at first - she had thought it might be truly randomized, leaving her with no possible respite or way to guard against coming without his permission - but once she realized that it would repeat she gave herself over to it. While it pushed her arousal higher with each cycle it completed, being able to mentally prepare for the stronger vibrations served as a ballast, keeping her from falling over the edge completely. 

Fitz’ hands stroking firmly over her legs, hips, and belly countered that, however, with his fingers finding sensitives bits of her when she was least expecting it. The tremors that always precipitated her orgasm were the end result, and they only intensified when Fitz spoke to her. 

His voice had always been an aphrodisiac for her. It had been hearing his voice, brogue heavily laden with lust as he gave his previous girlfriend commands, through her thin bedroom wall that had first driven her mad. It had taken weeks of fantasizing about him turning that tone on her before she finally broke and asked him to teach her how to play this way. Even now, when his tone was more affectionate than bossy, it made Jemma’s toes curl. 

Jemma did as he bid, opening her eyes to take him in, and gasped in pleasure as her brain registered the full force of his gaze. Fitz’ eyes were the dark, intense shade of sapphire she’d come to associate with their playtime, and his smile belied his pleasure with her. The feedback that she received sent a flush of heat through her, and she even managed a small smile in return as she waited for the next surprise he had up his sleeve. 

There weren’t very many more. Fitz could have edged her, kept her balanced on the fine line of orgasm for a much longer time, but that was something further down the list of things to try with her. His own weariness this evening in the face of Jemma’s interest had presented a good opportunity to bring out a toy, and theoretically he could try other things, but Fitz wasn’t sure he had the patience to do so. And that wasn’t fair to either of them, to play when his heart wasn’t fully in it. 

His smile shifted to a grin when she smiled up at him, foolishly pleased that she was enjoying herself. Sometimes playtime was serious and sometimes truly playful, and sometimes there were moments like this, when their genuine affection for each other broke through. 

Fitz tipped forward a little, shifting his weight, and leaned up to bracket Jemma’s ribs in his hands. “C’mere, lass,” he said, tugging her upward and raising an eyebrow when she resisted. “Is okay. Arms down, jus’ c’mere.” Once Jemma had released her grip on his headboard - he really needed get around to working through tying her, so she didn’t cramp her fingers doing that - he drew her up. Using her position to his advantage, Fitz settled Jemma in, straddling his lap before urging her arms behind her. “Y’ still dinna get t’ use your hands, lass,” Fitz laughed when she made a soft noise of protest. “Hold on t’ your elbows.” 

When she complied, Fitz took a moment to change the pattern on the vibrator yet again, not looking to see which one he chose. He was giving her less time to adjust now, even as he paid more attention to other areas of her body. His fingers found her shoulders, rubbing the muscles that had tensed while her arms were up even as his mouth dove in to attend to her clavicle and neck. 

Jemma practically went cross eyed when Fitz tugged her against him, her body approaching sensory overload. She had managed to compose herself before, relaxing into the moment, but now, with Fitz’ hands on her back, his chest pressed against hers, and his mouth alternating between nipping and laving at her throat, her grip on her self-control was tenuous at best. 

She didn’t even have the reliable pattern from the vibrator anymore. Whatever Fitz had done, it now felt stronger and more insistent, pushing her closer to her orgasm despite her best efforts to dig her heels in and stop her downward slide. But what did it, what brought about Jemma’s downfall and impending doom was the feel of him beneath her. Fitz had clearly enjoyed what he’d been doing, and the evidence of it pressed hard and hot between her legs, right against the toy that was still buzzing away inside of her. 

“Fitz!” she gasped, feeling the first wave of small tremors that always precipitated her orgasm. She knew she was fighting a losing battle, but tried her best anyway. “I can’t- it won’t- Yel-!” But any attempt she made to speak further gave way to gasps and moans as pleasure overrode her rational mind, and her body broke around the toy pinned between herself and Fitz.  
 

 

Jemma was shivering in his arms, and Fitz grinned against her skin. He loved her, both dearly and passionately, but he also loved that he could do this to her, that she’d let him bring her right up to the edge of her control. When she slipped over that edge a moment later, against his earlier command, it took him a beat too long to react, only catching that she’d tried to use her safe word, but it was far too late. 

Both disappointed and dismayed, Fitz did what he least wanted to do. Turning the toy off, he set Jemma away from him on the bed and pulled the toy away, abruptly interrupting her pleasure. Jemma had never failed to comply with his instructions before, and he’d relaxed into thinking that she never would. Still, there were rules. And there were penalties for breaking the rules and this was one of them. Steeling himself against Jemma’s disappointed whimper and her anxious expression, clearly worried about his reaction, Fitz guided her to lay back on the bed, her arms still trapped behind her. 

“Y’ broke the rules, lass,” he sighed. This was complicated since he also should have been keeping a closer eye on her and Fitz felt like it was partially his fault. But Jemma should have spoken up, too. That was part of the trust, that she would tell him if something was too much for her or she was close to breaking. 

It didn’t help that Fitz had been looking forward to eventually getting his turn, some sort of release to relax him from the already stressful day, and now that was impossible. He hesitated to use pleasing him as a punishment, although it was technically acceptable by terms of their agreement, because of the consequence he’d chosen for her. Once she’d stopped trembling, the aborted orgasm faded away, Fitz slipped the toy back into place. 

Leaning up over her, where she could see him, Fitz leaned down and pressed a kiss to Jemma’s forehead, stroking fingers over her cheek. He wasn’t angry, but he was disappointed. “I’m goin’ t’ turn tha’ back on in just a moment,” Fitz explained quietly, seeing she looked confused and anxious still. Thankfully, there was no fear in Jemma’s eyes. If there had been, he’d have called this off immediately, and it would be a long time before he played with her like this again. “Your punishment is that I’m goin’ t’ get y’ all worked up again… and then you’re goin’ t’ bed without finishin’. An’ y’ canna do anythin’ about it unless y’ come t’ me an’ ask. Understood?” 

She was dimly aware of Fitz going stiff against her, and even through the pleasurable haze of her orgasm, Jemma knew that it was disappointment that caused that particular reaction, not desire. And she knew it had been her that had caused it. The abrupt removal of the toy and discomfort of having her arms bent beneath her, pinned against the mattress as he laid her back, was nothing compared that knowledge. It sat like a stone in her stomach, making her feel ill. 

Thankfully, his touch was gentle when he brushed his lips against her forehead, and fingers against her cheek. Jemma nodded when he spoke, knowing Fitz would want a clear answer from her, but despite him taking up the bulk of her field of vision, she didn’t really see him. She was too busy trying to force down her disappointment, not wanting it to overwhelm her only to send her careening over the edge into panic. She’d come. He’d told her not to but she’d come anyway. She’d disobeyed him, and her chest went tight as she tried to process what he’d said. 

Punished. She would have to be punished. She knew it was in their contract, knew it was what she had agreed to, but it still made her stomach roil. Not out of fear or a sense of injustice, no she deserved what Fitz would do to her, but she hated to let him down. He was everything to her, and to know that she hadn’t lived up to her end of their agreement… 

Jemma shuddered a bit when she felt Fitz slip the toy back between her legs, and took a deep breath, waiting. Usually, the anticipation was one of the best parts of allowing Fitz to play with her this way, knowing that he would ultimately take care of her in the end. Now, though… now, there would be no completion. Because she failed. 

That was the last cognizant thought Jemma had before Fitz took up the remote and the toy sprang to life between her thighs once more. 

It didn’t take more than a moment or two for Fitz to realize this wouldn’t work the way he’d originally planned. He’d never done this to anyone else - his previous girlfriends had been more into physical punishments that Fitz hadn’t even broached with Jemma yet. For Jemma he had to be more creative, and more careful to let her know he loved her despite what happened during playtime. 

Which was why Fitz settled himself down next to her. It might have been cheating a bit, but he wanted the punishment to be an effective deterrent for next time around. Careful of her arm, still bent awkwardly beneath her, Fitz propped his head on his elbow and cupped Jemma’s cheek again, drawing her into a kiss. His fingers skimmed her breasts, down her belly and back up to tease at her nipples, until she was fully distracted and worked up again. Thankfully, for his own peace of mind, it didn’t take long. 

Fitz drew back from her only to fumble for the remote again, turning the toy off and taking it from her again, setting both aside for him to deal with later. Jemma’s hazel eyes were fixed on him when he turned back to her, but he couldn’t get a good read on her expression. There was arousal and contrition, a bit of frustration too, but there was something else underneath it that worried him. 

“Alrigh’, lass, playtime’s over. Y’ can let your hands loose now,” he said quietly. Jemma shifted to bring her arms out from under her and Fitz groaned when she inadvertently pushed her hip up against his erection. He’d been ignoring it as much as he could, but continuing to do so would be punishment for him, too. And as much as he wanted to stay and reassure Jemma, he needed a few minutes alone. “I’ll give y’ a few minutes… You- You’re welcome t’ stay, but I’ll understand if y’ decide t’ sleep in your own room tonight.” 

Her eyes had darted over to him, concern twisting her mouth downward, when she heard his groan, but Jemma quickly looked away once more when she caught sight of his eyes. She would never quite understand how Fitz did that, that inscrutable face he wore during their playtime. Usually, it only served to drive her higher, but now it made her feel small, and in desperate need of a good cry. 

Unwilling to trust herself to speak for fear for breaking down into tears on the spot, Jemma nodded and turned to sit at the edge of the bed. Only then did she remember she had no clothing in here. When they had come home and Fitz had realized she wanted to play, he’d instructed her to go to her room, strip, and return to him. At the time, it had made her squirm in anticipation, but now left her feeling exposed. Vulnerable. 

Not that she typically minded being exposed or vulnerable in front of Fitz. She trusted him with her body, heart, and soul implicitly, that went without saying. But he’d never seen her fail, before, and knowing she’d failed in this, something he’d trusted her with… that was more than she knew how to deal with at the moment. 

Taking a deep breath, Jemma pushed back everything that was warring inside of her - her arousal, her shame, her disappointment - and tried to focus on one thing at a time. Fitz had invited her back once she was ready for bed. He wasn’t rejecting her over this. She could get up from this mattress and make it to her room to find something to wear for bed. Hopefully between that and brushing her teeth, she could get herself to something resembling her baseline, and find a way to apologize to Fitz. 

Fitz watched her move, hating the way Jemma’s shoulders hunched as she sat there on the edge of the bed. She made herself vulnerable to him when they played, yes, but the shame that was rolling off her in waves worried him, and Fitz realized that’s what he’d caught lingering in her expression earlier. That, he wouldn’t stand for. 

Rolling off the other side of the bed, Fitz winced when straightening up pushed uncomfortably against his erection. After a second to adjust, he grabbed his discarded button-down and circled the bed to kneel in front of Jemma, draping his shirt around her shoulders. “Hey,” he said softly, his hands finding the curve of Jemma’s hips and letting his thumbs stroke her skin, “Is okay. Go on an’ get dressed, settle in wherever is comfortable for y’ tonigh’, okay? We’ll talk about what happened in the mornin’, when neither of us are so worked up.” 

Leaning up, Fitz pressed a soft kiss against Jemma’s mouth and laid his cheek against hers for a brief moment before drawing back and getting to his feet. 

The soft press of his mouth to hers, ever gentle and kind and understanding, along with the feather-light stroking of his fingers along her hips, caused Jemma’s heart to catch in her throat. She knew it wasn’t logical, and that Fitz would be furious if he knew she’d even flirted with the thought, but in that moment, she didn’t believe she deserved him. Not at all. 

Once he pulled away, she caught the edges of his shirt, pulled them tighter about herself, and slipped off the bed. Once in their short hall, she paused, debating between wanting to clean up and needing clothing of her own. Her clothing won out in the end; as much as she recognized Fitz’ gesture as being loving concern for her, and would happily sleep in his shirt, she wanted bottoms at least. There was no way she could sleep next to him nude, not tonight at least. 

Digging in her drawers, she quickly found an old pair of Academy-issued shorts from their first field assessment, and slipped them up her legs. That done and the shirt buttoned, she slipped across the hall into the bathroom and forced herself through her usual nighttime routine. Having something familiar to do with her hands helped eased some of her nerves, and as contrite as she felt, she also realized that Fitz having to punish her would have happened eventually. There was a reason such parameters were in their contract, after all. 

Feeling slightly more herself, Jemma exited the bathroom and slinked back toward Fitz’ door. He’d insisted on speaking in the morning, and she knew they would work through this, together as always, but she was still uncertain as to what she should expect. When she poked her head around the door, however, her boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. Curious, and perhaps a bit worried, Jemma withdrew from the room and padded down the hall to the sitting room, hoping she’d find him there. 

After Jemma slipped out of his room, Fitz scrubbed his hands over his face, only then letting out his own frustration and disappointment. “Damni’, Jem,” he muttered under his breath, “An’ damn me, too.” They’d both made mistakes, and while it was a simple correction to make in the future, Fitz would have to be careful with her in the short term. Jemma hated being wrong, took pains to never make mistakes… This would knock her confidence - and possibly her trust in him - if he didn’t handle it properly. 

His own arousal had thankfully dimmed in his worry for her, although his erection was still insistently straining against the front of his jeans. It would go away eventually, but for the moment it was an irritation he didn’t want to deal with. In hindsight, he should have put Jemma off when he got home, or at least taken time to settle and put his brain in a better mindset. Fitz had thought to lose himself in her, but he hadn’t considered the risk of that not being an option. 

There was a brief moment where Fitz considered closing himself in the bathroom for a few minutes and taking care of it on his own. Again though, it was just a bad idea. If Jemma figured out what he was up to, she’d be sure to take it personally, another signal of her own failure. He just wanted to feel comfortable again, fully in his own skin, but that likely wouldn’t happen until they could debrief about what had gone wrong. 

Sighing, he stripped down and tugged on soft pajama pants, padding shirtless out to the kitchen. Fitz only hesitated a moment before he reached into an upper cabinet for the bottle of scotch he kept there. Neither of them were big drinkers at home, but every now and then, like right now, it was nice to have it there. He quickly poured a shot and downed it before adding a few cubes of ice and pouring another two fingers to sip. He was staring moodily down into the amber liquid when Jemma appeared in the doorway, looking small and uncertain. She’d kept his shirt on, Fitz noted immediately, and hoped Jemma was as comforted by being in it as he was by her choosing to wear it. 

Jemma shifted her weight from side to side, both to alleviate the chill seemingly radiating off the kitchen tile and her nerves. Her eyes scanned over Fitz, and despite her apprehension about what had passed and what was to come, the state he’d left her in wouldn’t allow her to ignore his bare chest and shoulders. Jemma cast her eyes downward, embarrassed to be distracted that way despite what had happened only a few minutes prior. 

Fingers tangled in the cuffs, Jemma took two halting steps forward into the kitchen, wanting to be near to him but not wanting to press too far into his space, either, if he needed time away from her. The fact that Fitz had the scotch out made her spine stiffen. He typically only drank socially or when stressed, and given the circumstances… 

Choking down her renewed fear, Jemma tightened her fingers on the counter next to her and cleared her throat. “Hi, Fitz.” Her voice was weak, barely audible in their tiny kitchen, but it was all she could manage at the moment. 

“Hey,” Fitz replied automatically, but his mind was elsewhere, namely on studying her. He knew Jemma too well to miss the signs of the way she’d drawn in on herself, or the worry in her expression when her eyes lit on the glass in his hand. Torn between defensiveness and concern, Fitz turned to lean against the counter, and after a beat or two, held his arm out to her. “C’mere.” 

He wasn’t sure if she’d want to be near him right now. There was the chance she’d come out here to get something, expecting him to still be in his room and now it would just be awkward, but Fitz offered anyway. Playtime was playtime, and yes, his punishment was extending beyond the usual bounds of their game, but it was a mental consequence rather than a physical one. Even if he hadn’t gotten her worked back up again, she’d be upset and out of sorts about breaking his rules. And absolutely none of that meant she wasn’t still his girlfriend or that he didn’t love her dearly. 

And it definitely meant that despite what had just happened, Fitz would still look to her to help settle his own upset. If she was willing to, at least. 

Relief broke over Jemma when he reached out to her, and she easily took the last few steps she needed to step into him. Her eyes slipped shut and she buried her face in his shoulder as her own arms wrapped around his waist. He was warm and solid beneath her cheek, and the lingering scent of his cologne worked to ease the nerves that were jangling her stomach. 

Fitz was home. He had been before they became romantically involved and was even more so now. If she were she capable of thinking logically, the thought alone would ease her, but with her emotions all tangled up in it, too, all she could feel was the fear that she might lose him. She shuddered in his embrace as her own arms notched around him more tightly. There had never been anything hugging Fitz hadn’t solved before, and hopefully this would be no different. 

“Y’ okay?” Fitz asked quietly, setting the scotch aside and wrapping his arms snugly around her shoulders in return. Relieved, he tipped his nose down into her hair, sighing quietly. “Y’ know I love y’, right? This doesna change anythin’ at all, other than figurin’ out what worked an’ what didn’t for next time,” he murmured down to her. 

Fitz paused a moment and then added, “An’ dinna mind me too much. I’d already had a shite day, so if I seem off, trust me, is tha’ and no’ you. Wish I had a reset button, really.” 

Jemma was grateful her face was pressed against his neck so Fitz couldn’t see her wince when he’d told her he’d had a rotten day. She’d been so eager to have him when she’d come home she hadn’t even noticed anything off with him. He’d stopped to cater to her wants instead of caring for himself. She hadn’t thought it possible, but Jemma felt lower than she had before. 

“Love you, too,” she mumbled against his neck. Fitz was right. They’d figure this out, same as they’d navigated the start of their relationship, they’d work through this, too. “Do… do you want to talk about what happened with your day?”

“Just stupidity a’ the lab.” Fitz had been pulled onto an existing engineering team temporarily, trying to bring a project back on track after it nearly went pear-shaped. Jemma had already gotten an earful about the idiots he was working with more than once. “They keep tryin’ t’ go back t’ the old way, never mind tha’ the old way didna work an’ that’s why they’re stuck with me supervisin’. Is frustratin’. It didna work, find somethin’ else! Is no’ tha’ complicated a concept!” 

He realized his voice had risen inappropriately, given how close she was to him and winced. “‘M sorry. Is no’ your fault. I told them t’ take the weekend an’ put together a new plan, tha’ I wouldna be back until Monday. So y’ have me aroun’ for the whole weekend, a’ least?” If Fitz could pull things back on track and talk things out with her in the morning. 

Running a hand down and back up her spine, Fitz noted Jemma’s tremble in his hold. Unsure if that was from pleasure or if she was lingering near tears, he slowed his pattern, drawing her a bit closer. “Do y’ want t’ stay with me, or are y’ goin’ back t’ your room for the night?” he asked softly. 

She’d been right. Being wrapped up in Fitz, having his hands on her and his voice in her ear, had been enough to bring her back to center. However, it had also resulted in her arousal, previously banked thanks to her nerves, to stoke back into life. Soon, even as she tried to listen to him talk about his day, Jemma found herself imagining those long, incredibly talented fingers elsewhere on her body, causing her to shiver. 

“I -” Jemma wanted to stay with him, wanted to curl up and reassure them both, but she wasn’t sure how good of an idea that was. Given how he’d riled her up, and the fact that even now she knew it would be ridiculously easy for him to finish her with a few brushes of his fingers or tongue, a bit of separation might do them good. “I think I need to sleep in my room,” she whispered, steeling herself and stepping back. She glanced up at him, hazel eyes clearly apologetic. “I just… I’m not sure I’d get any sleep with you next to me.”

Fitz caught at Jemma’s wrist before she got too far away. “I didna mean y’ have t’ go right this secon’. An’ is okay. I thought y’ might want the space, tha’s why I asked. Just- I’m goin’ t’ grab somethin’ t’ eat. After that, y’ know where t’ find me if y’ change your mind.” 

He reeled her in a step closer so he could press a kiss to Jemma’s forehead. When he drew back he gave her a hesitant smile. Her comment about not getting any sleep by him had given him hope. “Or if y’ decide t’ ask t’ be let out of your punishmen’ before mornin’.” 

Jemma caught her lower lip between her teeth and nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The little half smile he’d given her had sent her heart skittering, pleased by the affection she saw there. It didn’t hurt that it reminded her of her favorite Fitz expression, half asleep and pleased to have her, naked, in his bed. It was a look capable of filling her with enormous affection and sparking her lust, and she knew then that she’d made the right call. 

Even still, she regretted having to make it, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Wednesday’s leftovers, that roast you liked, are in the blue containers,” she said as she stepped toward the doorway. “I’ll… I’ll see you in the morning, Fitz.” 

With that, she hurried down the hall to her room, determined not to look back. If she did, Jemma knew she’d wind up begging Fitz to release her, which to her overdeveloped sense of fair play didn’t seem sporting. She’d agreed to these terms, and as much as she might not like them now, she did want to at least try to make it until morning.

Fitz watched her go, the smile lingering now that Jemma seemed more comfortable and settled. It was amazing what a simple hug from her and a few minutes of quiet conversation could do. He almost didn’t even want the scotch anymore, but he’d already poured it and it’d be a waste to just throw it away. So he ended up sipping that while he ate the roast and potatoes she’d reminded him were still in the refrigerator. 

Eventually he made his way out to the living room, checking his email and glancing through his news feed before going to bed. It felt odd, curling up under the worn blue duvet without Jemma next to him, but as he’d told her - Fitz understood. And even without the D/s aspects of their sex life, there would likely be times now and then when they were simply better off not being together every second. It hadn’t happened yet, but it would eventually. Even as blindly in love as Fitz was, he was too much of a realist not to know that. 

It took Fitz a while to drift off, but eventually his thoughts slowed enough to let him sleep. 

Jemma had no such luck when it came to sleep. 

It had been early when she’d initially slipped into her bedroom and shut the door behind her, far too early for her to actually dream of going to sleep. She’d been too keyed up, besides, and flipped on her TV in the hopes of distracting her. None of her usual shows did the trick, however, and her thoughts kept sliding back to Fitz. Shirtless, with pajama bottoms that she knew, if she tugged just right, would slide right off of his hips. And those long, talented fingers of his, wrapped around his tumbler of scotch, Jemma could practically see him leaning against the counter, could see the way he’d lick his lips after he’d swallowed the last mouthful. 

With a pathetic, frustrated whimper, she clicked off the set and tossed the remote aside before burying herself beneath her covers. She tossed and turned trying to find a position that wouldn’t send her mind venturing down more explicit paths, or make it too tempting to slip her hand between her legs to finish what Fitz had started. She fisted her hands into her pillow to keep that from happening. She’d promised, after all, and Fitz was the very last person she’d ever want to break a promise to, so she resigned herself staring at her ceiling. 

Eventually though, in the wee hours of the morning, long after she’d heard Fitz shut his own door and settle in for the night, Jemma gave in. She couldn’t take it anymore. Kicking off her covers, she swung her legs over the edge of her mattress and stood. Moving quietly, not wanting to wake him if he were sound asleep, she slipped from her room and over to his. Fitz’ door opened smoothly, and she stepped into his room, silently approaching the edge of his bed. 

“Fitz?” she called, voice pitched purposefully low. “Fitz? Are you asleep?”

Fitz was sleeping soundly enough that Jemma’s soft call didn’t wake him, but the dip of his mattress from her sitting on the edge and the subsequent drag of her fingers through his curls did. Groggy and not remembering their evening at first, he glanced over at the glowing blue numbers on his digital clock and then up at her. 

“Jem? Wha’s wrong, lass?” It wasn’t until he’d sleepily pushed up onto an elbow that he remembered why Jemma wasn’t with him in the first place and why she might have woken him. “Canna sleep?” Fitz asked gently, seeing that she still looked very much awake.

She knew it was unintentional, but Fitz’ sleepy brogue made her feel as though she’d touched a live wire, hair standing on end and nipples tightening as he spoke. She had a fleeting thought that it was unfair that he could cause such a reaction in her, but ignored it. She was here for something else entirely. 

“No, I can’t sleep,” she murmured, shaking her head as she did so. She knew damn well that Fitz wouldn’t make any kind of move without her explicitly asking him, but was having trouble finding the words. Licking her lips, she haltingly began. “I- Fitz, I’m sorry. I know I disobeyed you, and came before you said I could, and I promise I won’t do it again, just- Please, will you help me?”

However much he might have hoped for it, Fitz hadn’t actually thought Jemma would ask to be released early, especially with the way she’d begun chastising herself earlier. She was too much the rule-follower, usually too careful to ever break a rule in the first place, that he couldn’t see her further bending them to escape the consequences of poor behavior. And yet, here she was. 

Fitz looked up at her, reading her expression in the dim light from the desk lamp, and eventually smiled, sleepy and sweet. Hooking an arm around Jemma’s waist, he tugged her closer, her hip against his belly as she sat beside him. “I dunno, lass,” he said, teasing, “Maybe I should set an example, so y’ dinna think y’ can always get out o’ your punishments so easily…” Really, Fitz knew it was partially his fault too, this time, so he was inclined to be more lenient. 

“An’ I’m goin’ t’ expect t’ get somethin’ out o’ this deal, too,” he added, but given that he caught Jemma’s hand and dragged it up to kiss her knuckles, it came off sweet rather than demanding. 

His breath was warm, and the brush of it against her knuckles and the back of her hand caused Jemma to shiver. She knew exactly what that mouth of his could do, and the very idea drew a soft moan from the back of her throat. “Whatever you’d like. I promise, I’ll be good.”

More awake now, drawn by Jemma’s little moan, Fitz sat up, taking only a brief moment to orient himself before blindly kissing her. He caught her cheek first and nuzzled his way over until he reached Jemma’s mouth. “Mmm. I’d like a lot o’ things,” he whispered against her lips, brogue still raspy and low with sleep. “Y’ were very, very bad earlier, lass. How do y’ propose t’ make it up t’ me? If you’re good, I’ll forget the punishmen’ and let y’ have your turn.” 

He was trying to kill her. That was the only conclusion Jemma could draw as Fitz worked his mouth against her own, pushing her limits without giving her anything remotely near to satisfaction. His lips drifted from her lips to her neck as she considered his question, making it difficult to think. 

The truth was, Jemma was more than willing to do anything Fitz demanded, down to the letter, and was tempted to let him take charge there, too, but she knew better. Their very first night together, she had tried to defer to him when he’d asked her what she wanted, and had scolded her as a result. He’d want as direct an answer as possible, and while she knew what she wanted to do for him, she blushed at the thought of vocalizing it. 

“My mouth,” she mumbled between exchanged kisses. “Let me taste you. From start to finish.” 

Fitz’ mind blanked for a moment at Jemma’s answer, his mouth faltering against hers. He hadn’t ever actually let her do that before - not from start to finish like that. Usually he was too impatient and moved them on to different things before Jemma had a chance to finish him off. But tonight, given the circumstances, Fitz was just selfish enough to let her go for it. 

Tipping back down to the bed, Fitz cupped his hand behind Jemma’s head and drew her down with him so she was lying across his upper body, for more kisses. “Alrigh’, baby girl,” he murmured, drawing away from the last kiss by sucking gently on her lower lip, “I think tha’s a fair trade. You take care o’ me an’ I’ll take care of you… an’ I’ll even let y’ have the choice of how.” 

Jemma wasn’t sure whether the shiver that ran through her was due to Fitz suckling at her lip, his promise to let her pick how he would bring her climax, or the prospect of finally being allowed to do this for him, but she didn’t want to inspect it too closely. They were making their way back to firmer ground, and she saw no reason to question why that was too intently. 

She laid a row of kisses over Fitz’ jaw so she could nip at his earlobe, and ran her tongue over the small hurt before turning her attention to his neck. Jemma knew he enjoyed that kind of attention just as much as she did, and took her time, alternating between licking, nibbling, and suckling until could feel him shift his hips slightly beneath her. Jemma grinned against his neck, placing one last kiss in the hollow just beneath his Adam’s apple before turning her attention to his chest. 

She turned it into a study in praise, trying to worship each exposed inch of him with naught but her mouth and hands. Jemma scraped her nails lightly over his nipples as she counted his ribs with kisses, a thrill of pride mingled with lust shooting down her spine to settle low in her belly when she felt him suck in his stomach in response. Eager to please him, she moved lower still, nuzzling against his lower stomach as her nimble fingers loosened the drawstring on his bottoms, and eventually curling around the waistband. 

She kissed him just below his belly button, and feeling braver, risked a glance up at him as she began to inch his pajamas over his hips. 

Fitz couldn’t remember the last time anyone had gone down on him just for the sake of doing so, with the full intention of letting him lie back and enjoy it, without pressure to do anything else. Honestly, there hadn’t been many people he would have wanted to let do that, anyway. For it to be Jemma… she’d hardly even done anything yet and his breath was already coming faster. 

He lifted his hips, pushing up and letting Jemma draw his pajamas off. Fitz hadn’t bothered to put anything on beneath them, so Jemma had full access to him once she drew them down his legs and he kicked them away. 

Jemma’s lips quirked upward in an affectionate smile as she drank him in. He might not have been as muscular as the specialists that were forever running around SHIELD facilities, but Fitz was beautiful, muscled where he should be with sleek, angular lines that she absolutely adored. Placing a kiss to his inner thigh and trailing her mouth up from there, she settled between his legs so she could get to what she really wanted. 

She started slow, not wanting to be rushed through this, which he permitted her so rarely, and laved him from root to tip, pausing only to curl her tongue around the head of his cock before traveling back to the base. When Jemma was satisfied he was slick enough, she pulled back slightly, and inhaling deeply, lowered her mouth back over his glans. She sucked lightly as her tongue brushed over Fitz, toying with him a bit. She knew what it was he wanted, and would be more than happy to give it to him, but she saw no reason why she shouldn’t have a little fun first, listening to the way his breath caught or the little whimpers that escaped his throat. 

Fitz could never say he didn’t know what he was in for. Jemma had clearly decided to take her time working him over, teasing and lingering touches waking the banked arousal that hadn’t fully eased from earlier, despite his nap. It wasn’t until she pressed her lips over him, suggestively lingering over the head of his cock, that Fitz brushed his fingers over her cheek, halting her for a moment. 

“Just a secon’, lass,” he reassured her when she looked up at him, puzzled. If Jemma was going to do this, then he was going to enjoy every second of it as much as he could. Taking a second to gather his pillows, Fitz pushed up and piled them behind him, scooting up on the bed a bit, but giving himself a much better view. It was also likely more comfortable for Jemma, giving her more space to sprawl her own body across the bed to reach him. “Alrigh’, as y’ were,” he murmured when he was settled, smiling a bit when Jemma understood what he’d done. 

There was no hint of a true command in his words, but Jemma shivered with arousal all the same. Surely there was some psychologist out there who would be happy to parse apart why she and Fitz enjoyed that particular kink, but she frankly didn’t give a damn. The fact that it made them both happy was enough for her. 

The position Fitz had put them in catered to the more visual aspects of his nature, and so she settled in to give him a show. Wrapping a hand around the base of his erection, Jemma lowered her mouth over him once more, pressing down until her lips brushed against the ring created by her thumb and index finger. She started slowly, using her mouth and hand on him in concert as she lifted off him and lowered once more, her tongue sweeping against the underside. 

Jemma felt his legs flex on either side of her, toes curling in response to her ministrations. If her mouth weren’t already occupied, she would have grinned, the look of a woman who was pleased to know her lover was enjoying himself. But the best was yet to come. Inhaling deeply through her nose, she began to pick up her pace, taking her fingers from Fitz as she did so, until eventually, Jemma was using only her mouth on him, her lips wrapping around the base of his cock on each pass.

Fitz’ fingers caught in the sheets beneath him, fisting there to keep from reaching for her, intent on letting Jemma do exactly what she’d asked - to please him start to finish. Beyond propping himself up to watch, Fitz was determined not to dictate anything to her for the next little while. It had been a rough evening for both of them and Jemma deserved to have something completely under her control this time. Even him. 

He relaxed back into his pile of pillows, moaning softly in the back of his throat when Jemma sped up. Fitz’ brain was teetering on the edge, at the point where he soon wouldn’t have any logical thoughts in his head, only Jemma and what she was making him feel. For the life of him he couldn’t remember even now, why he hadn’t let her do this before. She did something with her tongue, swirling around his cock as her lips chased it back up the length of him, and his eyes nearly crossed, hips lifting off the bed to follow her. “Chris’, baby girl,” he whispered hoarsely, “Do tha’ again.” 

Jemma did just that, only this time she slowed down first, drawing the sensation out as she gave him exactly what he asked for. Her hands came up to bracket Fitz’ hips, not to halt his motion entirely, but to ensure he didn’t buck and surprise her accidentally. 

She watched, hazel eyes practically glowing in satisfaction, as the muscles in his abdomen began to twitch sporadically and his fingers knotted themselves further into the sheet. They were the tell-tale signs of a man who was dangerously close to losing control, and they caused her to tingle with her own arousal, her sex slick and pulsing. She was doing this, to Fitz, close to sending him over the brink, and Jemma began to work him in earnest. He had promised that she’d get to feel him come apart against her tongue, and damned if she wasn’t going to get exactly that. 

He’d already been worked up, and was close to finishing with what Jemma was already doing. But when she shifted against him and redoubled her efforts, Fitz didn’t stand a chance. It wasn’t much more than a minute, maybe two, before he broke beneath her, only just catching himself before he tangled his fingers in Jemma’s hair and holding her there as he came. Thankfully, she did anyway, the steady rock of his hips devolving into a stuttered motion before Fitz went slack, sinking back into the pillows and mattress in boneless euphoria. 

Fitz fumbled to reach for her when she let him slip free of her mouth, tugging weakly until Jemma crawled toward him up the mattress. Heedless of what she’d just been doing, he drew her in for more kisses, his arms looped in a lazy circle around Jemma’s body. 

Jemma drank in the details of Fitz, his gasps of pleasure, the brightness of his eyes, the way his entire body shook as he spilled himself into her mouth, as she coaxed him through his orgasm. When she was certain he’d spent himself, she released him, and had just enough time to place a kiss to his hip before he was dragging her up his body for more kisses. 

She quite liked this entirely pleased Fitz, the way he held her against him as though he hadn’t a care in the world other than kissing her as thoroughly as possible. “Can I take this to mean you’ll let me do that more often?” she teased as she brushed her lips against his ear before nuzzling in closer. 

Fitz chuckled weakly between kisses, still out of breath and not quite collected. “Maybe,” he replied, attempting to tease, but he only ended up laughing again. “Chris’, who the hell am I kiddin’? Yeah. Yeah, y’ can do tha’ again,” he agreed. 

One of the main reasons he didn’t usually like letting his partners get him off that way was that his recovery time was unpredictable. But since Jemma had liked the toy he’d used earlier, that might not be such an issue now… Fitz would have to play that by ear and judge the particular situation. Or they might just have to have other times when this was all they did together. He didn’t necessarily think Jemma would mind - from her behavior, she’d enjoyed it. 

Curious just how much she’d enjoyed it, Fitz tugged her closer and slipped a hand down to skim over Jemma’s knickers, his touch light and exploratory. The heat radiating through the thin cotton was his first sign, but finding she’d soaked them through was another. Fitz let out another hoarse noise, closer to a moan this time. “Your turn, baby girl… Although I have a feelin’ this might no’ take y’ long,” he said, shifting to nuzzle against Jemma’s ear. “I promised y’ could pick what y’ wanted… so what will it be?” 

She couldn’t help but gasp when his fingers found her center, even though Fitz’ touch was light, more exploratory than anything else. But with the way she’d been wound up earlier, and seeing how much he had enjoyed having her mouth on him, Jemma was just as riled as she’d been earlier that evening. Her jaw worked uselessly as she tried to answer Fitz’ question, but was too distracted by the hand still cupping her sex and his breath ghosting over her ear and neck. 

Her initial reaction was to ask for tit for tat; she’d used her mouth on him, after all. But just as she was about to speak, Fitz brushed a kiss below her ear, causing her entire body to shudder in his arms. He certainly couldn’t do that if his mouth was otherwise occupied. 

“Your hands, please,” she murmured, catching his jaw with her fingertips and pulling him into a quick kiss before she reached down to guide his fingers below the elastic band of her knickers. 

Fitz grinned into the kiss. He should have known. Jemma was fascinated with his hands, a quirk that had become obvious to him within the first week they’d been together, and was especially fond of all the things he could do to her with them. Shifting to one side, Fitz turned onto his side and nudged Jemma into his place, cradled in the pile of pillows. 

Leaning in over her, Fitz slipped one arm under Jemma’s neck, the other cupping her cheek as he drew her in for more kisses. That hand wandered its way down her body, eventually, taking his time undoing buttons and stroking over her skin. Realistically, Fitz didn’t need to take the extra time to tease Jemma further, as aroused as she was, but he liked touching her, the softness of Jemma’s skin drawing his fingers along with the soft sounds she made. 

When he finally reached her knickers again, Fitz cupped his fingers over her, over the fabric, letting the warmth of his touch radiate through along with teasing, barely there pressure, grinning when she whimpered. “Fair’s fair, lass. I didna get t’ play with y’ as much as I wanted, earlier. Unless y’ have a problem with me takin’ my time, of course.” The words were whispered directly into Jemma’s ear, his voice low and intimate, a wash of warm breath teasing Jemma’s ear and neck. 

Fitz’ gentle attention had left her quivering, her mind unable to focus on any one thing he was doing to drive her crazy. Eventually, Jemma found her fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding his hand in place while she fought to keep her hips from squirming too badly beneath him. Chest heaving and heart pounding, she turned her head just enough to catch his lips against hers in a bid to allow her time to think. 

Whether fast or slow, Fitz always made sure it was good. Jemma knew that to be fact, so it was really a matter of how patient she was willing to be. After what had happened earlier with her aborted attempt, part of her was believed they should rush through in an effort to put what had happened behind them. On the other hand… letting him take his time had never disappointed her. 

“Dealer’s choice,” she gasped, breaking their kiss with a grin. Fitz had allowed her to lead, and Jemma saw absolutely no reason to avoid returning the favor. 

Tightening the arm around Jemma’s shoulders, he drew her in a little closer. Ever since that first time, this had been one of his favorite ways to play with her, snuggled up against Jemma’s side and whispering into her ear. She was always so responsive, whether he’d told her not to move or make any noise or they were just making love, without any of the kinky stuff. Like now. 

Returning her grin, Fitz knew he wouldn’t end up teasing her for long. He’d sent her to bed aroused and aching, then worked her back up again now. Jemma deserved that release, he just had to make sure it was good for her. His fingers tapped out a rhythm against her, Jemma’s hips pushing up into the touch, and Fitz caught the edge of the lace at her hip. He slipped the knickers down to Jemma’s knees and let her take care of getting them off from there, his fingers sliding back up the inside of her thigh to her center. 

Fitz skimmed his fingers over her again, light and teasing, pressing a kiss to Jemma’s shoulder when she whimpered softly, needing more. “Alrigh’, baby girl. Shhh,” he soothed, even as he pressed deeper, slicking his fingers into her and pressing the heel of his palm against her clit.

“Oh God, Fitz!”

She had just managed to kick her knickers onto the floor when the words rushed out of her, followed closely by a moan that, even to Jemma’s own ear, sounded downright pornographic. Given the way he’d been teasing her with feather light touches and whispered promises to drive her mad with want, she hadn’t expected Fitz to be quite so… direct. The intrusion was welcome, though, taking the immediate edge off the ache, although she expected her relief to be short lived. The things Leo Fitz could do with his hands were likely outlawed in each and every country in which SHIELD had jurisdiction, and she loved them all. 

She lifted her hips in rhythm with his hand, seeking as much contact as he’d allow. Her eyes crossed when Fitz, having found her g-spot, decided to attend to her neck as well, his tongue trailing over her pulse. Jemma gasped, the sensation seemingly lighting all of her nerve endings at once, and clutched at him, holding him close as she chanted his name and begged for more. 

“Shhh,” Fitz shushed her again, his hand stilling even its slow movement. “You’re rushin’ again. Y’ trust me, yes?” Even though they weren’t playing this time, he took the moment to remind her that he’d take care of her, waiting for Jemma’s shaky nod before continuing. “I’m no’ goin’ t’ make y’ wait long, I promise. But let me get y’ there.” 

He set his fingers into motion again, slow and deliberate. Jemma was so close already, he could feel her muscles clutching at him in time with the tremors wracking the rest of her body, mingled anticipation and sensory overload. Nudging his shirt aside, Fitz ducked down to tease her breast with his tongue while he stroked into her, until he could feel the tremors quicken to a fluttering sensation. 

Knowing she was close to breaking, Fitz sped up then, using more speed, more pressure, more friction to push Jemma over the edge, giving her everything she’d been begging him for. 

She turned her head toward Fitz, ducking against his neck and using him to muffle her moans as her orgasm broke over her. Jemma savored it, the sensation of his hands on her as he coaxed her through her climax, the soft words he heatedly whispered against her skin, the way her mind was perfectly blank, save for Fitz and the worshipful way he touched her. 

Jemma hated to even consider the comparison, given how easily Fitz outshone all of her previous partners, but moments like this made the differences even more stark for her. The men before him had catered to her, yes, but it seemed only to stoke their own ego; they weren’t pleased by pleasing her, but rather by what it meant about them as men. Fitz, as ego driven as he might be in the lab, had never made her feel as though her pleasure was only meant to validate him. Even after months of experiencing that, Jemma still found it novel.

Once the last shivers of her release ceased and Fitz had taken his hand from her, Jemma turned toward him, burrowing herself into his chest seeking warmth. Feeling sleepy and spent, she was unable to form coherent sentences longer than five words, but did manage to tilt her head up enough to find his mouth for a kiss. “You’re wonderful,” she murmured, smiling softly, and lazily kissed him once more. 

It never failed to amaze Fitz that Jemma had chosen to be with him, but never more than when she let him see her at her most vulnerable, lost in her own pleasure. It was the only time he ever saw Jemma completely helpless, insensible, her incredible brain shut off and unable to function. And the way Jemma invariably curled into him after, trusting him to soothe her through it, protecting her until she was ready to function again, humbled him. 

Fitz tucked the edge of his shirt in around her, and sat up long enough to toss their discarded clothes toward his hamper. Pulling the sheet and a lighter blanket up over her, Fitz drew her close again, leaving scattered kisses over Jemma’s face. “I try,” he murmured in reply to her compliment. “Y’ make it easy t’ be.” 

Feeling absolutely adored, surrounded by Fitz, Jemma sighed softly, happily, and eagerly accepted his kisses. Her eyes were growing heavy in the post-orgasmic aftermath, and she allowed them to drift shut as she wound her arms about his torso, anchoring herself to him. This was where she belonged, with Fitz, and it was where she felt most content. 

“I think I can sleep now,” she yawned, settling herself against his warm chest. “It’s always easier to sleep next to you.” Jemma nuzzled against his sternum, and with one last muttered, “I love you,” was out like a light. 

Fitz chuckled softly. Jemma was adorable when she was sleepy, and never more so than after she’d just orgasmed. It was like her body simply gave up afterward, demanding she rest. Given everything this evening, he couldn’t even be upset with her for drifting off and leaving him awake. He settled in against her, chin resting atop her head, and lay quietly, holding her until he managed to drift back off, too. 

In the morning, Fitz was up early for once. After all, he’d gotten more sleep than Jemma had. They’d separated in the night, making it easy for him to slip away without disturbing her. He quietly turned off his desk lamp and drew the curtains, blocking the morning sunlight for her, before heading out to the kitchen to make coffee and scrounge something up for breakfast. 

He was at the table, his laptop, coffee and a toasted bagel in front of him, when Jemma appeared in the hallway, still wearing nothing but his shirt, although she’d fastened a few buttons for modesty. 

Jemma couldn’t help but smile when she saw him, still shirtless and his curls mussed from sleep, and she came up behind him to wind her arms around his neck. “Good morning, love,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before wandering into the kitchen to fetch her own mug of coffee. Still feeling pleasantly loose after Fitz’ attention to her last night, she allowed her slightly more mischievous side a bit of license. 

She opened the cabinet where they kept their mugs, and well aware of just how short his shirt was, went up onto her tiptoes to reach for a mug on the highest shelf. Jemma’s grin was hidden with her back to him, but she quickly turned around to fix her drink. While she was curious to know if he’d noticed, she didn’t want to seem too eager or pleased with herself, either. 

“Minx,” Fitz called out across the kitchen. “Dinna think I didna see tha’, lass. Bu’ it willna work this mornin’.” As much as he was pleased to see Jemma was awake and happy and clearly feeling rather sassy, they still needed to talk, and Fitz wanted to have that conversation first thing, before either of them got distracted by anything else. Including more sex. Perhaps especially more sex. 

“C’mere when you’re done,” Fitz added, turning back to his laptop and quickly finishing the email he was composing and sending it off. “We’ve got t’ talk about what happened las’ night. Make sure it doesna happen again,” he added quickly, realizing ‘we got to talk’ usually was a bad sign. 

Jemma glanced up, and meeting his eyes, gave him a slightly more subdued nod. While she would have rather forgotten the entire incident, she knew Fitz was right. She had been an emotional wreck last night over disappointing him, and if they didn’t clear the air, it would linger in the back of her mind and make her fearful during playtime. He had been clear from day one that he wouldn’t do anything that would lead to her feeling compromised, and that certainly would. 

She hurried through preparing her mug of coffee, along with a bagel of her own, on half slathered in cream cheese, one with strawberry jam, and carried both to the table with her. She took her usual seat across the table from Fitz, close enough that their knees brushed beneath the small space and where she would be able to look him in the eye. She knew transparency would be important, and didn’t want to give him cause to think she was hiding anything. 

Fitz closed his laptop and set it aside, leaving their dishes as the only things between them on the table. He’d been thinking how to address this since he got up, wanting to be clear that he didn’t blame Jemma. 

“Y’ dinna have t’ look so worried, lass,” Fitz chided her, although his voice was quiet. “Is okay. I just- I make the rules when we’re playing, an’...” He broke off with a sigh, still unhappy with the way things had ended. Even though Fitz and Jemma had made up later, the mistake was still made and the issue was more his than hers. “I make the rules, but also means I’m responsible for them. I willna deliberately set y’ up t’ fail, Jemma. Y’ know tha’. But I missed somethin’, somewhere, las’ night. I’d rather no’ repeat that mistake.” 

He looked over at her then, trying to read Jemma’s expression, but there didn’t seem to be anything there that he wouldn’t have expected to find. “First things first… Y’ got there eventually, but y’ had trouble settlin’ in. Was tha’ about the toy, or somethin’ else?” 

“No, it wasn’t the toy,” Jemma replied, breaking eye contact so she could focus on her breakfast. Ripping off a tiny portion of the half she’d covered in jam, she popped it into her mouth and looked back at Fitz. “I…” She hesitated, trying to find the right words. Somehow, despite feeling entirely comfortable with what they did in the privacy of their bedroom, she at times tripped over her words when asked to vocalize her thoughts. 

“It was just the idea, I think, that I would have to keep myself from coming.” She locked gazes with Fitz briefly, hazel eyes uncertain, before turning to tear away another piece of her bagel. “I’d never been asked to, before, not that I minded,” she rushed to explain, not wanting him to worry he’d pushed her into something and she hadn’t used her safe words when she felt a need, “but I was worried about how I’d stop myself.

“The toy itself wasn’t a problem at all,” she continued, her eyes rising to meet his once more, despite the light flush in her cheeks. “I quite liked it, actually.” 

“I noticed,” Fitz grinned across the table at her, both amused and pleased at her admission. “I was pretty sure the toy wasna the problem, but I had t’ ask.” He sat back in his chair and reached up, scratching the back of his neck. “So tha’s problem number one. You’re okay with me doin’ that again, though?” 

He went ahead and asked his next question quickly on the heels of the first. “So y’ seemed t’ be doin’ alright… Until I pulled y’ up int’ my lap, at least. Did it move the toy, or was there somethin’ else tha’ went wrong an’ I didna notice it? I caught tha’ y’ tried t’ use your words, but it was too late.” 

Mouth full, Jemma nodded and brushed a few crumbs from her lips as she hurried to finish chewing. “It pushed up against my clit when you moved me,” she supplied around the last remnants of food, washing it down with a sip of coffee. “But it was your mouth on my neck that pushed me over. That… It always feels good, but I didn’t expect it to be that intense.”

Surprised, Fitz blinked over at her. “Well tha’s new,” he said, chuckling. “Y’ always like that - that’s why I do it a lot, but is never been a trigger for y’ t’ go off like tha’.” The puzzled, considering look returned to a happier expression, Fitz’ smile wide and teasing and perhaps a bit playfully leering. “Tha’s alright though. We can test that theory later on, see if it happens again. No’ when we’re playin’, though. I- I have another plan for y’ later today, I think. If you’re interested.” 

He’d also caught on to the way Jemma had very much liked it when he watched her, and thought perhaps putting her in control while he watched might be just the thing to ease them both back into things after the blip last night. Fitz could give orders without ever touching her, if he wanted, and give himself a better understanding of what she might want the next time they played with his toy collection. 

Before he got there though, Fitz had to finish the debriefing. “An’ I know y’ probably dinna want t’ talk about it, bu’- the punishment. Too much? I’ve always used more physical punishments in the past, so I wasna really sure…”

Jemma looked down, unsure if she’d be able to answer him otherwise. She’d always been cursed by being able to drag up the emotions of moments past as if they were happening in the here and now, and sure enough, that was exactly what she was going through. The echoes of her shame and embarrassment at not being able to follow his commands, along with the fear of that leading to Fitz not wanting to play with her again, were reverberating through her once more. 

“The punishment,” she began, voice barely audible despite the closeness between them, “it wasn’t bad, no. I mean, it… the punishment itself was good, left me wanting and made me think, but that wasn’t what got me last night.” Jemma glanced up to find Fitz staring at her intently, more relaxed than before but apparently wary of the way she’d looked down to answer. “I was in my own head. Disappointed, and… a little ashamed, I guess would be the best way to put it, that I hadn’t been able to take your instruction. I was worried… you’re always so careful with me, and I was worried it would make you want to call off any more playtime.” 

She gave him a small shrug and an embarrassed smile before looking back down at her fingers. “Now, in the light of day and with a clearer mind, I see that I was entirely off base, but last night… that’s where my head was.” 

“I knew somethin’ else was off,” Fitz said softly, nodding, “I just didna know what.” He hated that he’d made Jemma feel that way. “Trust me, baby girl. Is goin’ t’ happen sometimes, tha’ y’ willna be able t’ follow the rules. Sometimes the punishment is half the fun. Bu’ I dinna like thinkin’ that I made y’ feel bad about yourself. Tha- Tha’s no’ what playtime is about.” 

It bothered Fitz intensely, and his face showed it. Quiet for a bit, he sighed and took a bite of his own bagel, chewing thoughtfully, even though he suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore. “I- Did tha’ help?” he asked finally, motioning toward his shirt, which she still had wrapped around herself. “I couldna tell exactly what was wrong, but I tried t’ help. I dinna know if it worked. Is hard sometimes, walkin’ the line between when we’re playin’ and when I’m jus’ your boyfriend. I couldna just let y’ out o’ the punishment. I mean, there’s no point t’ rules if there’s no consequences, righ’? But I’ll never just let it go when I know you’re out o’ sorts, either.”

“Jem, I-” he sighed and ducked his head for a moment before looking back up at her. “I love y’. Y’ know tha’. Y’ always - always - mean more than whatever game we’re playin’. Just please remember, too, tha’ except when I’ve set y’ a punishment like tha’, when a scene is over, is over. I’m no’ holdin’ a grudge o’ some sort, it doesna mean I dinna love y’ or want t’ play. Even if y’ hadna come t’ me last night, it would be the same this mornin’. Is over. We have this conversation an’ we do better next time. An’ just because the dom side o’ me has set y’ a punishment, it never means y’ canna come t’ me as your boyfriend. Jus’ talk t’ me, lass. I’d never have let y’ go off alone las’ night if I’d known y’ were feelin’ tha’ way.”

If Fitz’ babbling hadn’t given him away, the way he fidgeted in his seat would have. Either way, the end result was the same: Jemma’s heart clenched in her chest, and she was overcome by the need to get her hands on him and reassure them both. Pushing back from the table, she took three quick steps around it to get to Fitz and push on his shoulder. 

It took him a moment, but eventually he slid back, leaving Jemma just enough space to drape herself sideways across his lap and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “I know that, knew that,” she murmured, leaning her forehead against his. “I really did, Fitz. And I will come to you in the future, love,” she leaned in to brush a kiss against his mouth. “I promise.” She had felt wretched last night, even knowing it had all been her own mind’s doing. She wanted to take every step possible to keep that from happening again, for both their sanity. 

Eyes still closed and forehead pressed tight against him, Jemma pulled back to whisper, “The shirt did help. I needed that contact.” She opened her eyes and smiled when Fitz did the same, revealing the bright blue irises that could always make her heart flutter at the oddest times. Like now. “I always need contact from you, true, but then particularly, I needed it.”

He wasn’t expecting Jemma to move, much less to insistently push until he made room for her in his lap, but Fitz appreciated it nonetheless. Wanting to be close to him again relieved some of the nervousness that had clenched tight in his belly as he slipped his arms around Jemma’s waist and drew her close. She gave him one soft, short kiss, but Fitz drew her in for another, longer one, gentle and sweet. 

Jemma’s promise sent him sighing against her mouth, utterly relieved. Neither of them were the type to make promises lightly, especially when it came to each other and their relationship. “I’m glad,” he admitted. “I like seein’ y’ in my shirt, regardless, bu’ I’m glad it helped, too. I didna know what else t’ do las’ night. Especially when I wasna sure if y’ would let me hold y’ right then.” 

Fitz hesitated for a moment, setting his chin on her shoulder and nuzzling Jemma’s cheek. “How are y’ feelin’ now?” He couldn’t be entirely sure, but it felt like she tensed a bit in his hold, and Fitz let one hand drift down from her waist to stroke up and down Jemma’s bare thigh, trying to soothe whatever thoughts she was caught in. 

The action caused Fitz’ calluses to scrape against her skin, sending shivers along Jemma’s spine. Her eyes slipped shut and she ducked her head against his, taking a moment to center herself before she answered his question. 

“Better,” she answered honestly, although there was a longer explanation lurking behind those two syllables. She opened her eyes and looked at him, knowing Fitz would want all the feedback he could get from her. She’d quickly learned that in debriefings, he wanted to know absolutely everything, sometimes things Jemma thought were entirely inane, just to be sure Jemma was truly comfortable. Yes, it was overprotective and at times made her want to roll her eyes, but she knew he only did it because, more than anything, he wanted to please her. 

“You know me, Fitz,” she murmured, leaning her torso against him. “Talking about it puts me back in that mindset. I’ll come out of it in a few. I was feeling very good when we finally went to sleep last night, and much better this morning. Give me a little time to come into my own, and I’ll be right as rain.”

Fitz shifted in his seat, adjusting a bit to let Jemma better tuck herself in against him, her head laid against his shoulder. He knew she was right - her mood always faded a bit when he nudged her into talking about something uncomfortable - and that she usually bounced back, given time to settle. “Alrigh’, lass,” Fitz murmured, relieved that he’d managed to mostly fix things the night before, even without knowing exactly what was wrong, “Take your time.” 

He pressed a kiss to her temple and let Jemma take what she needed from him, whether it was time, quiet, cuddling or touch. Fitz could give her all of the above, and did, lifting his chin to set it against her hair, letting his eyes slip closed and sitting there quietly, holding her with the one arm and still gently stroking her skin with the other. Jemma would talk again when she was ready, and until then, Fitz was content to simply be there for her. 

Jemma nearly fell asleep right there at the kitchen table, her eyes slipping shut as the heat radiating off Fitz, along with the gentle patterns he was drawing against her bare thigh and waist, lulling her into a drowsy state. She felt safe there, in his arms, huddled up on his lap, as though nothing in the world could touch her there. And, she supposed, that was as true a statement as she could ever imagine. Fitz never would let anything happen to her, at least not if he had control of it. 

He’d proved that, time and time again. 

Smiling, feeling better than she had when they’d started their talk, Jemma’s eyes fluttered open, and she shifted in Fitz’ lap to press a kiss to his cheek. She gave him a smile, too, wide and sleepy, before she murmured, “I love you, more than anything.” She held there a moment, just watching him, liking the way the early morning light played off his eyes, before she finally slipped off his lap and gathered their dishes so she could clean up. 

He just barely bit back a noise of protest when Jemma shifted away. Fitz might have been taking care of her, but he needed a bit of reassurance of his own, outside of everything else. The previous day hadn’t been fun and Fitz wouldn’t have minded Jemma staying close a bit longer, but he wouldn’t make her stay, either. Watching her clear away the dishes, Fitz turned an idea over in his head, considering. Jemma might not be willing to play again so soon after the last time, but he’d give her the choice as always. 

Sidling up behind her at the sink, Fitz set his hands on Jemma’s hips, his lips hovering at her ear. “I can take care o’ that, lass. Why don’t y’ go take a bath. Relax a bit. When you’re done, we can try playin’ again. If you’re interested in another one o’ my ideas, tha’ is.” 

She stilled at the feeling of his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, the feather light sensation sending a thrill down her spine as all kinds of wonderful images danced through her head. Like the two of them, tangled up in bed, and Fitz laying his mouth all over other, more interesting places on her body. The flirtatious mood she’d been in that morning hadn’t left her entirely, and in fact had been piqued by the way he’d slipped up behind her.

Jemma leaned back against Fitz, head tipping back onto his shoulder as she made a show of considering her options. “Bath and my wonderfully imaginative boyfriend, or dishes… whatever shall I choose?” Shaking her hands off in the sink, Jemma gave a half turn and grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw. “I do believe I’ll go draw my bath.” She smacked him lightly on the arse and, twirling away from his grasping fingers, hurried out of the kitchen and into their bathroom. 

Fitz grinned after her, pleased that Jemma was back to herself. More than, even. 

Finishing up the dishes, Fitz straightened up the rest of the kitchen and then did the same in the bedroom, putting his discarded clothes from the night before into the hamper. Jemma had long since broken him of the habit of leaving them scattered on the floor until he finally got around to doing laundry. He only straightened the bed, though, sorting out sheets and blankets and folding them down neatly toward the end of the mattress. He had plans for Jemma, after all, and there was no point making it now if they were only going to get mussed again in the very near future. 

By the time he was done, there were still faint splashing sounds coming from the bathroom, so Fitz stretched out across the bed, a pillow pulled down in front of him, to doze a bit while he waited for her. 

Jemma honestly did her best to not rush through her bath, tried to give her muscles time to relax as the warm water lapped against her sides, but her mind felt super charged. She had first been attracted to Fitz because of his mind, and she knew that if something had sparked his imagination, it was going to be good for them both. Unable to keep herself from him any longer, Jemma drained the bath, toweled, off, and slipped into her robe before padding back into what used to be Fitz’ room, but had effectively become theirs. 

She paused in the doorway, a faint smile playing on her lips, as she looked him over. He’d curled up in the middle of the mattress, wrapped around a pillow, and honestly, if he hadn’t mentioned the word “play,” she’d have been happy to replace the pillow and curl up with him. Realizing it wasn’t a bad idea on its face, as it did put her in direct contact with him, Jemma did just that, tugging the pillow away from Fitz’ chest and replacing it with herself. 

The action caused him to open his eyes, and she smiled down at him as she breathed out a soft, “Hi.”

“Hey, you,” Fitz said, his tone soft and affectionate even as his face lit up with a smile for her. He hadn’t meant to actually doze, but he must have, since he hadn’t heard Jemma puttering in the bathroom or the door open. He had to forcibly resist drawing her closer and winding his arm around Jemma’s waist. Cuddling would distract him from the plan. 

He left a series of kisses down Jemma’s face until he reached her lips, but only left a light kiss there, too. “I was thinkin’... Y’ liked tha’ toy last night. So I’m goin’ t’ go take my own shower, an’ you’re goin’ t’ pick your own toy t’ play with.” Fitz’ smile spread to a grin when he saw the way Jemma’s eyes widened, looking thoughtful but very much interested. “There’s lots o’ things in there t’ choose from, jus’ no’ the green one, or any o’ the ones in the black bags. They’re- not suitable for today.” Really, the green one was too big for her to comfortably use on her own, and the others were glass. Not the best thing for someone new to sex toys. 

Jemma’s mind had wandered while she’d been in the bath, wondering what, exactly, Fitz might have in mind. She had thought he’d avoid the toys, not wanting to use something that had made their playtime more difficult the night before, but as his words sank in, the more sense it made to her. There was no time like now, after they’d talked, to ease her into using the toys more consistently. She nodded her agreement and allowed Fitz to pull away from her so he could wash up. 

Snaking an arm out, Jemma caught Fitz when he was right above her and pulled him down for a kiss. “Hurry back,” she whispered when she let him up, and caught her lower lip between her teeth as she watched him disappear around the doorframe. As soon as he was out of sight, she rolled onto her stomach and reached down to the drawer where he kept the toys. 

They were neatly organized, seemingly by form and size, and Jemma’s eyes went a little wide as she took in the selection, intimidated but amused by the variety of purples and pinks she saw, and brushed her fingers over them. She saw the black bags he’d mentioned, as well as the lone green toy, and studiously avoided them. Fitz would get to those eventually, she assumed. 

She found it just as she heard the water shut off in the bathroom, it being one of the smaller toys, velvety to the touch and tiny enough that it could fit in the palm of her hand. Lying back on the bed, Jemma held it above her and turned it over in her fingers, trying to become acquainted with it as she waited for Fitz to return. 

Fitz didn’t take long to shower on any given day, and he didn’t hurry this time, wanting to give Jemma time to look through the contents of the drawer and pick something out for herself. He was curious what it would be though; there were a lot of options. Would it be something like what he’d used last night, which was sort of an abstract thing, something more realistic, or one of the simpler vibrators? 

With a towel wrapped snugly around his hips, rubbing his hair with a second one, Fitz padded back into their room, one eyebrow quirked as he watched her. “I didna say y’ had t’ wait for me t’ get started, lass. Help yourself.” He leaned against the doorframe, lazily, clearly intending to wait for her. 

The way Fitz was watching her, Jemma suddenly had the thought that she knew exactly how a cat’s prey felt. Only, unlike the prey, she knew that with this kind of hunting, she would very much enjoy herself. The thought made her body tingle, and before she could over think it, her fingers found the knot holding her robe closed, making quick work of it. 

Setting the toy to the side, she brushed the cotton material to the side, leaving her fully exposed to Fitz’ hungry gaze. Jemma paused, pushing down any nervousness she might feel, and brought her hands up to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples. 

Jemma glanced at Fitz once more, and satisfied (and incredibly thrilled) that he was watching her every move, allowed her eyes to slip shut as she teased herself further. Slowly, imagining that they were his hands on her, she slowly skimmed her hands lower, enjoying the building anticipation for them both. When she did finally allow her fingers to slip down against her folds, Jemma parted her thighs, providing Fitz with a clear view to what she was doing. 

From the second she opened her robe, exposing the length of her body to him, Fitz couldn’t decide which to watch - Jemma’s shifting expressions or her hands. He alternated between the two, only briefly looking away to identify the toy she’d set aside for the moment, before returning to her. He was immensely pleased that even with his original instruction, she’d felt free to do that, to set the vibrator aside and warm herself up with hands alone. As always, this was an exercise in pleasing Jemma - not just for her to please herself, but for him to learn something new about how to make things better for her in the future. 

When her eyes slipped shut, Fitz gave her a bit to see what she’d do. And though he thoroughly enjoyed the way Jemma shifted to let him see just what she was doing, Fitz didn’t like that she’d shut herself off. “If you’re goin’ t’ close your eyes, y’ have t’ tell me what you’re thinkin’ about,” he called across to her, still leaning there in the doorway. 

She should have expected that response. 

Jemma knew that Fitz hated when he couldn’t get a read on her, particularly when they were playing, but she’d been caught up in the moment. She forced her eyes open to meet his, and giving him a brief smile, allowed them to slip shut again. 

“Last week,” she murmured, just loud enough to be heard across the room. “When we missed our dinner reservation because you couldn’t keep your hands off me in that orange dress…” Jemma hadn’t though the dress that scandalous, but he must have been in a mood that day, because as soon as he’d seen her, he caught her about the waist and towed her back to his room. “You were so-” she gasped, the pad of her middle finger brushing over her clit, “- insistent. Your mouth on me… God, you got me off twice before you even got my dress off…”

Jemma lost the thread of the story, lost in the memory, and more intent on what she was feeling now than anything else. Knowing how worked up she was, she searched blindly for the toy, and finding it, fumbled to put it on its lowest setting before teasing the tip of it along her folds. 

Fitz grinned when he realized which evening she meant. No, there hadn’t been anything scandalous about the dress except it was his Jemma in it, and it outlined every one of the curves that he adored so much. He’d gotten rather distracted between it and the tall heels she’d chosen to wear with it, pushing her up to his height. It had seemed like the least he could do to reward her for being so gorgeous, to peel off the tiny knickers she’d had on and let his tongue do the talking in a much different way. 

It just went to show that even when they weren’t playing, their sex lives were still extraordinary, that he could still keep her happy that way. But even so- Jemma’s soft gasp carried across the room, and her hips shifted restlessly as she slipped the buzzing little toy down across her clit. Fitz had already been half-hard under his towel, and watching her had both him and his libido at full attention. 

He moved across the room, circling the bed and closing the curtains over. Not because anyone could see in, but to soften the light in the room until it was lit only by his desk lamp again, highlighting the curves and planes of Jemma’s body with warm, golden light. For himself, Fitz drew the desk chair across the floor to the end of the bed, setting himself where he could watch her without being quite close enough to touch anything. 

The sound of the desk chair dragging had caused Jemma’s eyes to open once more, revealing Fitz, framed by her raised knees. He blue gaze was hot enough to burn, and Jemma shivered as it raked over her, bold and eager to see what she was doing. She realized then that she felt surprisingly powerful, having him hanging on her every action, and even managed to give him a smile. Feeling wanton, and absolutely loving it, she allowed her knees to fall further apart and teased the toy lower, allowing the tip to slick through her arousal. It never failed to amaze her how easily Fitz could draw this reaction from her, even without touching her; she’d never gotten this wet this easily for any other man, and since he hadn’t forbade her from speaking… well, Jemma saw no reason why she shouldn’t tell him as much. 

“You,” her breath hitched as she brought the now-slick toy back up to press against her clit, “Do this to me. Christ, Leo, I… I think about you, your hands, your mouth, the way you speak to me, how you hold me, all of it, and this is the end result. Every. Single. Time.” She somehow managed to sneak her words out past soft sighs and moans, little pants of pleasure as her hips bucked up to meet the toy, inching closer to her release. Fumbling with the controls, she turned the intensity up once more, causing her thighs to quiver while her body acclimated to the feeling. 

Jemma could see, in her mind’s eye, the image she made, legs spread wide, sex slick and swollen and wanting for Fitz, and moaned outright, not bothering to disguise it in the least. In that moment, despite how good the toy felt tickling her clit, she wanted nothing more than to have him pluck it from her fingers and cast it aside in favor of getting her off himself. 

Fitz had slipped his hand under the towel, slowly stroking himself while he watched her. He’d been right last night - knowing he was watching her turned Jemma on. He could see it in the way she watched him, her eyes avidly checking to make sure he was still fixated on her. How quickly Jemma had gotten aroused to the point that she couldn’t hold back the soft noises of pleasure. 

Her words though - her words, the admission of the things he did to her and how much she loved it - that sent Fitz’ heart skittering in his chest even as his cock surged in his hand, insistent and wanting to be in its rightful place inside Jemma. This wasn’t about him, though, and Fitz wasn’t some jackass who was all about his own needs. “Easy, lass,” he said, softly but firmly, “Dinna come yet. I mean i’. This is your secon’ chance from las’ night.” 

He slid forward from the chair, crawling up the bed and pushing up over Jemma to slant his mouth down over hers. “Keep doin’ just what you’re doin’, lass.” Fitz murmured before dipping in for another heated kiss. God, he wanted to lay himself down over her, claim Jemma as his… But the impulsive, possessive male in him wasn’t in control right now. The dominant in Fitz was, and his focus was on driving her a little crazy before giving her everything she wanted. 

After several dizzying kisses, Fitz nipped and licked his way down Jemma’s neck, lavishing attention on her breasts and reveling in the way she trembled and shook beneath him, her body racked by pleasure even though she hadn’t reached orgasm yet. 

Somehow, despite being pinned beneath Fitz and strung taut with pleasure between the sensation of his mouth on her breasts and the vibrator against her clit, Jemma managed to hold off. She found that there was something euphoric about being caught there, so close to the precipice without tipping over. Everything seemed so much more vivid, from wetness of his tongue as it teased her nipple, to the heated brush of the head of his cock against the curve of her arse, that she thought she could lose herself in it and be content. 

That was, at least until his mouth dipped lower, nipping at the underside of her breast before venturing to her stomach. The stubble of his jaw scraped past her belly button, and Jemma moaned loudly not just thanks to the sensation, but also everything it conjured in her mind: the hot wash of his breath against her sex, the velvet brush of his tongue through her folds, those clever fingers that could find each and every one of her sensitive spots without fail…

Still, she held out, keeping herself from tipping over into her climax with one singular thought: she didn’t want to disappoint Fitz, not again. And certainly not when she knew, without a doubt, that he could make her feel even better than this a thousand times over, if only she could hold out a little longer. 

Drawing back to shift further down Jemma’s body took his weight off his arms, freeing Fitz’ hands to take over teasing her breasts as he grinned against her skin. She was always so damned responsive. It had turned him on that first time with her and never failed to do so in the months since. The least bit of sensation sent Jemma shivering, and doubled - now tripled, with his hands on her - was guaranteed to do exactly what Fitz wanted, pushing her closer to the edge. 

Now the question was if she could keep herself from going over. 

Fitz stroked the flat of his tongue over her belly, skimming to the side at the last moment and licking down the crease of her thigh. He only moved away long enough to duck around Jemma’s hand, scooting back further, until he could tip his head down underneath to run his tongue through the wetness at Jemma’s entrance. Teasing, flicking at the over-sensitive skin, Fitz slowly and very deliberately blew a stream of cool air over her, cutting it off immediately when Jemma’s hips bucked and another loud moan emerged from low in her throat. 

Lifting back up over her, Fitz grinned down at Jemma and reached to cup her cheek, thumb stroking her lower lip. “Y’ okay, baby girl?” 

The touch of his tongue to her, teasing and tempting and downright torturous, caused Jemma’s eyes to cross as her body arched into the sensation. What she was experiencing, being so connected to every little thing that left her muscles twitching with unbridled want, left her panting with sweat beginning to bead along her torso. 

She was beyond wanting. She’d thought she’d experienced this before, being so desperate for Fitz that the only word that was suitable was need, but this put her previous experience into an entirely new perspective. Here, on the brink of losing all control, Jemma finally appreciated just what desperation meant. 

“Leo,” she gasped as he rose up over her, the hand not controlling the vibrator coming up to clutch at his wrist even as she pressed a sloppy kiss to the thumb that ghosted over her lower lip. “P-please, you kn-know what I need.” Her breath hitched as she struggled to maintain some modicum of control, doing her best to keep her orgasm in check with him so close. 

“Shhhh, I know.” Fitz stroked her lip again, his fingers skimming over her skin, moving up to brush away the beads of sweat that had formed at her hairline. Glancing over at his clock, Fitz watched a new minute begin, the seconds ticking away, and nodded at it. “A minute an’ a half. Y’ hold out tha’ long and I’ll give y’ exactly what y’ want.” He leaned down after that, disrupting Jemma’s desperation with slow, lazy kisses in counterpoint to the shivers of her body, careful to keep his weight up and off of her. 

She whimpered into his mouth, and Fitz shifted to brace on his other hand, the free one stroking her body slowly, just up and down her side, avoiding anything too sensitive. The minute crawled by, and as the last 30 seconds began, Fitz shuffled back down the bed, peppering her skin with kisses as he watched the clock. 

15 seconds. 

Fitz switched to the flat of his tongue, scraping his stubble over the tender skin below her belly button and laying his hand over hers, where it was clutched tightly around the vibrator. 

10 seconds. 

Laying himself flat over the end of the bed, he breathed over her again, teasing, his fingers brushing down the crease of Jemma’s thigh - so close and yet so far. Jemma’s breathing was uneven, hitching and shuddering in time with the rolls of her hips, and Fitz thought he heard his name in there once or twice, her tone pleading. 

5 seconds. 

He took control of the vibrator, slipping it down to tease at Jemma’s entrance. “Alrigh’, baby girl,” he said against the skin of her inner thigh, leaving a kiss there before his mouth would be too busy for a bit. “Go,” he said, the second the countdown was done, wrapping his lips around her clit and busying his tongue with driving her over the edge.

Stars exploded behind her eyelids, his name a strangled cry as her back bowed, hips arching into Fitz’ mouth and desperately seeking as much of him as she could possibly get. Her fingers wound their way into his curls, holding his head in place as she rode out her orgasm against his tongue, her body wracked by contractions so strong Jemma was certain she would break apart there on his mattress. Her ability to speak was reduced to a series of sharp cries and pleas to a deity in which she only had, at best, a dubious belief, and encouragements to Fitz to keep going and never stop. 

Fitz happily obliged, the muscles in his forearm tensed tight as he pinned her hips to keep her from getting too far away. His tongue and the vibrator kept working steadily, torturing already sensitive nerves into shivering life again and again, until Jemma slumped back into the mattress. Relaxing, drawing the vibrator away and slowing the strokes of his tongue until he was lapping gently at her, Fitz let out a little moan of his own. 

He was almost painfully aroused, his cock digging into the edge of the mattress where his legs were dangling off over the edge. Jemma’s pleasure had always been a turn on for him, but that was simply amazing. Finally drawing away from her, Fitz climbed back up onto the bed and knelt between Jemma’s knees, his hands rubbing gently over the trembling muscles in her thighs and watching her come back to herself. 

Her eyelids fluttered open at the feeling of his callused fingers running along her thighs, and she spared him a sated grin. Fitz looked well pleased with himself, Jemma noted, as well he should. The evidence of why was all around her, from the way her brain refused to begin firing again to the sheet beneath her, soaked both with her perspiration and the evidence of her arousal. Lazy as a cat in the sun, Jemma’s eyes wandered from Fitz’ face, noting the flush there, to his heaving chest and the light sheen she saw glistening on his pectorals, and traveled further south. 

She bit her lip sharply to prevent yet another moan when she saw the state Fitz was in. Despite the several orgasms he’d just given her, she wanted more, wanted him, and saw no reason as to why she shouldn’t have it. Catching weakly at his hands, Jemma used her grip to haul him over her, luxuriating in the weight of him as his chest pressed against her and hissing eagerly when his erection brushed her still sensitive folds. 

“Fitz,” she whispered against his mouth, stopping just short of kissing him, “what about you?” 

The only reason Jemma managed to get him down was because he let her; Jemma’s fingers couldn’t really do any more than wrap around his wrists and tug weakly. Fitz wanted to be close to her though, and thus carefully tipped himself down to lay over her, his elbows braced on the bed to keep his full weight from squashing Jemma into the mattress. 

“What abou’ me?” Fitz chuckled. He knew exactly what she meant, but he wasn’t entirely sure Jemma was up for what she was suggesting. As sleepy-eyed and sated as she was right now, Fitz would be less surprised if Jemma drifted off to sleep, warmed by the heat of his body against hers. Actually… Hm. If she wanted more from him, Fitz thought to himself with a grin, Jemma was going to have to work for it. 

Drawing away from Jemma, he scooted to one side and laid on his back. “C’mere, Jem,” Fitz said, reaching for her hand and giving a little tug, encouraging her to lay on him instead. 

Jemma followed willingly, more thrilled than an avowed feminist should have been at Fitz’ ability to direct her about the bed so effortlessly. There may have been some hidden, prehistoric purpose to it, a marker of a mate who could provide, but now it just made her feel dainty, something that needed to be coddled and protected from time to time. 

She slipped atop him, pressing their still-slick bodies together from shoulder to hip, grinning at his stifled groan when she pressed against his still insistent erection. If he’d expected her to slip into drowsiness, Fitz was sorely mistaken. She had seen what she wanted, and was determined to have it. Not to mention, her sense of fair play wouldn’t allow him to get away with forgoing his own needs. No, Fitz did that far too often where she was concerned, something she had realized last night as she’d used her mouth on him, and she did not mean to allow him to get away with it any longer. 

Slipping up a bit further, Jemma purposely pressed her hips against his, teasing, and ducked down to brush a kiss to his mouth, her sense of flirtatiousness returning the longer she was awake and active. “And just what do you want from me up here?” 

“You’re the one who asked ‘wha’ about me?’, lass,” Fitz replied to her question with a little grin. “An’ I want y’ on top.” Jemma pressed against him again, and he huffed at her, maneuvering them both until he could pull his hardened cock up between them. It left him pressed fully against her, with the way Jemma was straddling him, but it was less awkward than having it bobbing against her arse every time she moved. 

“Although, you’re welcome t’ just cuddle for a bit, if y’ want. Is no’ like tha’s goin’ away any time soon,” Fitz chuckled, his breath fluttering the loose strands of Jemma’s desperately mussed hair. He wrapped his arms around Jemma’s back, genuinely content her for to simply stay put for a few minutes. 

She laid there, content in the feeling of Fitz’ arms banded about her, for several minutes, her heartbeat coming back to its resting rate and the sweat cooling on her skin. She couldn’t ignore his little problem much longer, though, and soon, after pressing a kiss to his lower lip, splayed her hands on his chest and levered herself up. 

She ground her hips against him, sliding herself along his length, grinning when Fitz’ hands found her hips and squeezed. Arching her brow, Jemma lifted herself up and reached for him, angling his erection so the head was pressed just against her entrance. She held him there, the moment spinning out between them, both of their breaths coming in shallow pants as they anticipated the next moment. When it eventually became too much, her legs shaking with the effort of holding herself above him after their earlier exertion, Jemma sank onto him and began a slow, steady rhythm. 

After the frantic tempo from earlier, Fitz thought this was likely better for the both of them, less playtime and more relaxed, even if he had dictated the position to Jemma. Moaning softly when she slid down on him, Fitz drew her back down against him. His hands stroked over Jemma’s back, half-soothing and half-arousing as he braced his feet on the bed and rocked up against her gentle movements. 

Nuzzling against her temple, Fitz let out a little grumbling noise when she only cuddled in closer. “‘Scuse me, Jemma Catherine,” he laughed softly, “Y’ dinna get t’ be totally lazy. I demand kisses.” Jemma’s expression when she looked up was a mix of sleepy and sexy, lips swollen, hair messy, eyes a bit dazed from ongoing pleasure. Fitz was in no hurry now either, and lazily slanted his mouth over Jemma’s, tongue skimming over her lips.

Jemma mewled in response to his ministrations, lost in the sensation of Fitz: their gentle, coordinated movements, the skimming of his fingers over her back and down to her arse, his tongue brushing against her lip, begging entrance. She granted it, her heart soaring as he clutched her closer. She enjoyed their game, yes, but cherished this, the moments when they were both so clearly in thrall of each other. 

As she gave him a particularly lingering kiss, Jemma brought her hands to rest on his chest, and pushing gently, sat up. She regretted the loss of Fitz’ mouth, but the tradeoff of being able to control their pace while giving him a view, so to speak, trumped that for her. The look he gave her was a mix of puzzled and disappointed, making her heart flutter. He looked undeniably sexy, sprawled beneath her, curls in disarray, eyes shining with lust and need and love, the pulse point in his neck jumping, and his muscles tensed with the effort of matching her pace. 

Moving slowly, not wanting to startle him or unseat herself, Jemma leaned back and undulated her hips, drawing a gasp from her own lips as he stroked against her g-spot. “Leo…” His name ended in a long, drawn out moan as she repeated the motion, her body warming once more as they each nudged each other toward climax. 

As much as he enjoyed having Jemma close when they were making love, Fitz couldn’t deny the appeal of being able to see her stretched above him. Her skin glowed as if lit from within, her curves seeming exaggerated from this angle. There wasn’t even an attempt to avoid them, Fitz’ hands seeking and mapping them - not that he didn’t know every inch of her by now. He stroked her skin, slow and thorough, weighing Jemma’s breasts in his palms for a brief moment before settling at her hips.

Fitz guided her movements, bracing some of her weight back against his thighs where they were bent up behind her and helping Jemma keep her balance over him. Of course, he had things of his own to be doing - namely rocking up into Jemma’s steady movements. He couldn’t even technically call it thrusting, more a gentle grind into her, grinning when she canted her hips to increase the friction on her clit. “Mmm, no,” he said with a shake of his head. “Lean back, baby girl.” 

When she cooperated, pushing him against her g-spot again, Fitz slipped his hand between them, seeking and easily finding her clit to stroke her slowly, in counterpoint to their movements. “Better?” Fitz whispered, even as he let out a moan of his own at the way Jemma’s muscles clenched around him in response. 

She had meant to give him an intelligible reply, some kind of affirmative response to let Fitz know that she appreciated - truly, deeply appreciated - what he was doing, but all Jemma could manage was a choked off cry. His thumb had found her clit and was working her expertly, sending waves of pleasure radiating out from her abdomen and into her limbs. Her eyes slipped shut of their own volition and, with her lower lip caught between her teeth muffling the volume of her moans, allowed her head to fall back as she became caught up in the moment. 

Jemma was almost there, her orgasm dancing just behind her eyelids, and she brought her hands behind her to find Fitz’ thighs. Using him as leverage, she was able to hasten her pace. It only served to intensify her pleasure, and it wasn’t long before she found herself whimpering. “I- I’m so close… Leo, may I…?” She hadn’t heard him say that she couldn’t come without permission this time, but she wasn’t willing to risk it, either. 

Playtime or not, Fitz always found himself enthralled with Jemma’s reactions. It was a turn on whenever he was with someone, but most especially since that first time with her, to see the effects of his words and actions so clearly displayed. Of course, it also meant he had to work that much harder to wait for her. Like most men, he was a visual and tactile creature. The sight of her above him, the sinuous shift of her hips and body, the slick heat of her wrapped around him plus the friction of her movements… Even the brush of her hair against his legs when she tipped back. It all converged on him as an overload of sensation and Fitz was almost relieved when he felt the fluttery sensation of her muscles gripping at him. 

“Go on, take what y’ want,” he urged, his fingers continuing their steady circling around her clit. This wasn’t playtime by any means, and making Jemma wait was only a means of torturing himself, since it meant he had to wait as well. Fitz didn’t have the patience for that this time, needing his own release along with the deeper pleasure of knowing he’d caused hers, too. His eyes fixed on Jemma, watching avidly as she crept even closer, a deep flush spreading over her skin along with a faint sheen of sweat. “Tha’s it, lass,” he whispered, his voice low and rasped out, “Come on. Come for me.” 

Jemma was of the opinion that Fitz’ voice should be registered as a deadly weapon, or at least a nearly lethal one, particularly when it carried that gritty, sex-soaked tone. After all, it had been hearing that tone in action that had driven Jemma nearly mad with lust more times than she could count and had given her the courage to approach him at all. 

It was no surprise then, least of all to Jemma, when his request triggered her orgasm, her body shuddering as she broke apart around him, muscles clamping around him in a bid to bring him even closer to her. “Leo!” She gasped out his name as she did her best to ride it out, her movements jerky and uncoordinated as she did so, fingers clutching at his thighs in the hope of a better purchase as he began to buck up into her, extending her orgasm as his body pursued its own release. 

Fitz’ eyes watched her avidly, resisting the urge to close them as the sensation of Jemma’s orgasm swept over him, both physically and emotionally. The involuntary clench and release of her muscles around him was both a tease and temptation, and Fitz was torn between continuing to stroke her and grabbing onto her hips to hold her in place while he pushed on to his own completion. 

In the end he kept his thumb centered over her clit, one corner of his mouth quirking up faintly when she shuddered again each time the pad of his finger stroked over the bundle of nerves in time with his thrusts. It wasn’t until Jemma was coming down from her climax, her body shivering softly, that Fitz shifted his grip on her, drawing her down against his body and letting himself go. It didn’t take more than a few quick, deep thrusts before he broke, burying his face in Jemma’s shoulder and setting his teeth gently into her skin to muffle his own moans of completion. 

Jemma turned her face into him, nuzzling against Fitz’ lightly stubbled cheek and placing kisses along his jaw, allowing them both some time to come down from their climax. Eventually, when the shivering in her arms and legs allowed her to move once more, she lifted off him in favor of plastering herself along his side instead. She fit easily beneath his arm, his shoulder standing in for a pillow, and she lightly ran her nails up and down his chest in nonsensical patterns. 

“Love you,” she sighed, tilting her head to look up at him. It didn’t need to be said, certainly not between the two of them, but she liked being able to say it aloud. Even after all this time, telling Fitz how she felt in these quiet postcoital moments still felt incredibly decadent, and Jemma planned on taking full advantage of it. 

“Love y’, too, baby girl,” Fitz tipped his head to leave a kiss on Jemma’s forehead, feeling more settled than he had since he’d left for work the day before. Between the frustrating workday and then things not going as expected with Jemma, everything had been off kilter. Now though, he felt like he and Jemma had a new understanding and work was only a dim afterthought in his mind. It left him free to consider what else to do with their weekend, since it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. 

While he certainly could consider keeping Jemma in his bed the rest of the time, Fitz wouldn’t actually do it. As much as he enjoyed this time with her, he liked just spending time with her, too. And so he mused on other things as he laid there quietly, the fingers of one hand idly tracing up and down her arm. “How d’ y’ feel about a nap, lunch an’ then goin’ downtown t’ wander about this afternoon?” It was Boston, they could always find something to get into. 

“Sure,” Jemma murmured, her answer obscured by a wide, jaw-cracking yawn. “Whatever you want.” She reached down and caught the covers to haul them up over her shoulder before wrapping her arm over his chest. Only then did she allow her eyes to drift shut, sleep rapidly taking hold as the morning’s exertion caught up to her. “But first a nap.” 

She was dimly aware of Fitz’ chest vibrating beneath her cheek as he chuckled, and grinned in response. She had Fitz, and at the end of the day that was all she ever really wanted. Someone who loved and provided for her as much as she loved and wanted to provide for him. A partner, in short. What more could a girl ask for?


End file.
